


We Have It All

by Midnightdemonht



Series: Happily Ever After with a little flavor [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different Mastermind (Dangan Ronpa), Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, I cant stress enough that this is a class fic, Nice Enoshima Junko, Trans Female Fujisaki Chihiro, also syo im so sorry, i love my gal......., just read it its super epic trust me, leon and sayaka are implied but like...hey, theyre all here and important, trying not to spoil this fic with tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29004177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnightdemonht/pseuds/Midnightdemonht
Summary: The bear is gleeful, thrilled, to tell them they’ll have to kill each other to escape.They are shocked, horrified, disbelieving. “We would never!” they cry, “Who could do that? Who would do that?”None of them hear the sharp exhale, almost a laugh, coming from the supposed Junko Enoshima. As if there’s an inside joke only she is privy to.
Relationships: Class 78 & Enoshima Junko, Enoshima Junko & Ikusaba Mukuro, Enoshima Junko & Naegi Makoto, Kuwata Leon/Maizono Sayaka
Series: Happily Ever After with a little flavor [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127759
Comments: 15
Kudos: 52





	We Have It All

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and typed this in less than 24 hours and I am ridiculously proud of it.  
> Title is from We have it all by pim stones :)

Jin Kirigiri is frozen with terror, with confusion, as he stares at an impossible situation, an impossible arrangement. 

The cafeteria has been rearranged into a makeshift courtroom, tables pushed aside to make room for his chair, for the _rocket_ that is behind him. His mouth is gagged tight enough to hurt, and he trembles in his bonds, rope rubbing against his torso. The room is hot, too hot, steam leaking out of the rocket ship, obscuring parts of the room.

And yet the judge is calm, steady, as she continues to read off the charges, of neglect, of manipulation, of hurting his students both intentionally and not. Her eyes are bright, feverish, hands in fists tight at her side as she paces. Sweat pools in his collar as she continues. This “trial” feels like it's been going on forever, despite the fact that it can’t have been more than an hour in reality.

In the distance, at the other side of the room, the jury boos and jeers, making their distaste for him known. Still, he finds himself numb with fear and disbelief. Surely this can’t be happening, surely they couldn’t have betrayed him like this. 

Still, the trial is coming to a close, whether he wants it or not. 

And as she reads off his final charge, she stares him right in the eyes, unblinking, immune to his terror. He doesn’t hear the words though, only the last, only the important one. “ _Guilty_ ,” she proclaims, and somewhere behind her a gavel rings out. The jury crows in delight, black and white outfits creasing as they slam the front of their benches with their fists, as they throw their arms in the air.

Still, he’s in denial. _This can’t be happening._

The steam is thick, suffocating, swirling around him as his chair begins to lean backwards without his consent, forcing him into the rocket’s steel embrace. In his final moments on earth, the smoke clears for a second, and he can see the judge’s, his executioner’s, face, her sharp eyes and trembling lip, and he can see the jury too, See their gleeful faces.

And his heart stops.

_Impossible_ , he wants to think, to cry out. But his mouth is gagged, and the door to the rocket slams shut before he can get another look, confirm his worst fears. 

And then the engine is rumbling, everything is shaking, everything is too hot, as the rocket moves up up up too fast, and his last conscious thought, as the blood rushes to his head, as the rapid increase of Gs makes him lose consciousness for the last time is _Kyoko, I’m so sorry_.

***

_And then everything goes black._

***

Makoto wakes up alone, on an abandoned desk in a dimly lit classroom. He is scared, confused. 

But deep inside him, he feels a burning determination. A drive. He has a mission. He needs to get up, to find out where he is, what’s going on. Then he’ll go from there.

***

The bear is gleeful, thrilled, to tell them they’ll have to kill each other to escape. 

They are shocked, horrified, disbelieving. “We would never!” they cry, “Who could do that? Who _would_ do that?” 

None of them hear the sharp exhale, almost a laugh, coming from the supposed Junko Enoshima. As if there’s an inside joke only she is privy to.

***

Sayaka invites Leon over to her room, with the intent of killing him. It ends badly. 

All the planning, the fear, the desperation, all of it is for nothing in the end, as she lays bleeding out on the bathroom floor. She’s written his name, even as her strength fades, done all she can do.

But as her eyes flutter close, as her breathing shudders and her consciousness wavers, she swears she can hear a noise. A door opening. Then she drifts off, to the sensation of a small hand on hers. 

***

_“So. You’ll pull me out?”_

_Mukuro is leaning on the desk of the mostly empty classroom, head in her arms, as she stares up at her sister. They’re going over the plan again, better to be thorough, as Taka always says._

_“Of course, sis!” Junko huffs, tapping her nails on the table. “I’m hurt by your lack of faith in your beloved sister!”_

_Mukuro can’t resist a little smile at that. “Just checking,” she reassures. “Can you remind me how it’ll go, one more time?”_

_And though she rolls her eyes, Junko obliges, outlining her role in the killing game, one more time._

***

Sayaka’s body is discovered by a screaming Makoto, bloody and cold. Looking at it, it's hard to believe she was ever alive, that this body used to move. It seems impossible.

Twelve students are disbeliving, in shock over the sudden murder.

Leon is too quiet, smile stretched taut, but no one knows him well enough to question it, question him.

From the data room, Junko watches and waits, gnawing on her finger. _It’s started now._

***

Mukuro sits in her room and waits.

Mukuro goes to the gym.

Mukuro challenges Monokuma, yelling and stomping on the bear in an oblivious act of verbal and physical abuse. Mukuro is impaled by dozens of spears, to the horror of her classmates, and she makes a noise not quite human as they hit her, a sort of choking gasp.

When she hits the floor, she is dead. Monokuma laughs and moves on, even as the body lies still warm at his feet. 

Elsewhere, a door opens.

***

An investigation is held, to everyone’s surprise, and to Leon’s horror. He had done a terrible job of hiding his tracks, left obvious evidence, and it is no wonder he’s caught red handed, that he’s dragged off into the darkness. 

His execution is agonizing to watch, for all his classmates, all but one.

Junko grins at the screen, eyes flicking between cameras. As the first execution comes to an end, _a complete success_ , she rises to her feet, ready to take the role of Monokuma once more.

***

_“Blue Jay.” Leon tells her, cheeks pink, as they lie on the ground of the junkyard, sweaty and satisfied, bats at their side. “I want hers to be Blue Jay.”_

_Junko’s eyebrows shoot up, and she smirks at him. “That’s adorable!” she cooes teasingly, and he elbows her in the side._

_“Shut up!! It works, right?”_

_Junko makes kissy noises, “Well, what are you trying to accomplish, lover boy?”_

_His cheeks go even pinker, and she laughs. Still, she can tell he’s reaching his limit, that she’s dragging on her teasing a little too long, so she’s quick to reassure him._

_“It works.There’s no way it’ll come up!”_

***

In a dark room, Junko smiles as reassuringly as she can.

She knows this must be disorienting, ridiculously terrifying, so she doesn’t bother with placations, physical or verbal. Instead, she gets right to the point, ignoring the tears and the trembling. 

“Hey, _Blue Jay._ ”

***

Monokuma doesn’t give them time to mourn, time to recover, before he’s throwing another motive at them. Secrets are passed around, to an array of gasps and swears.

Mondo’s hands tremble on the paper, forming fists that threaten to tear his secrets to shreds, as he stares at the undeniable truth written there.

“ _Mondo Oowada crippled his brother for life_.”

***

They are alone in the locker room when Mondo brings the dumbbell down on Chihiro’s head, and Junko winces at the impact. _I’m sorry,_ she thinks, as she watches Mondo change the crime scene, watches him carry her oh so gently to the girls locker room.

It's a show of respect, of human decency, that hadn’t been shown in the killing game, in hopes of staying true to the original transphobic school. Still, she hates the decision now.

She’s already in a bit of a bad mood, so she’s irritated when Byakuya interferes, frowning as she glances at a nearby clock. He’d better be quick about it.

She has things to do.

***

_When Chihiro presents her with the code for Alter Ego, Junko is amazed._

_Sure, she knows that Chihiro’s the ultimate programmer, that the girl’s amazing at what she does. But a sentient AI? One capable of accessing hidden files, recognizing faces, and able to hold a complete conversation? It sounds impossible._

_Junko applauds her, showers her with praise._

_Inwardly, she’s already thinking of all the ways the program can be improved. Chihiro’s talent can be very dangerous in the wrong hands, after all. Or in the right ones._

***

Syo is brought out for the trial, and she laughs. But it's high and nervous, and her eyes dart around the courtroom. “So you guys are serious about this, huh?” she says, as they tell her about Chihiro, about the rope and the bloody message. 

Her smile is too wide when she sings, “Sorry! Didn’t do it!” 

“You’re a serial killer-” Byakuya hisses, “We have no reason to believe you.”

“Well, that’s rich!” she spits, tongue out. 

She brings out her scissors, and while she says it's to prove a point, really it's just a safety guarantee.

***

Mid trial, they leave to examine Chihiro’s body. Kyoko lets them inspect it in detail, lets them discover the full picture themselves.

They reenter the trial room, heads spinning, to hear Monokuma’s booming voice. “Listen up, you slackers, cause I’ll only say this once! Chihiro Fujisaki was a _girl!_ G-I-R-L! I won’t tolerate any mistakes!” He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “It would be a shame to punish one of you lovely students for something so avoidable, right?”

The kids are surprised, but they agree easily, nodding. Mondo stares at the bear with something that’s almost surprise, almost respect. Then he looks away, and the moment is gone. 

***

A motorcycle is launched with no driver, only a helpless passenger, and a cage lights up with electricity. The circus is in full spring.

The body melts amidst the light show, from the heat of the cage. On the other side of the cage, a machine dings, and a container labelled Mondo Butter emerges.

The students have to resist the urge to throw up as Monokuma gladly slathers it on his pancakes. Eating it up.

***

_On the page for Mondo’s execution there is barely anything written, only two words. In big letters. ‘Butter?????’ is written. The amount of confusion infused into the word is impressive._

_Below it, scribbled much faster and smaller, is ‘Motorcycle?’_

_It's ridiculously little to go off of compared to the others, and Junko laughs delightedly at the sight of it._

***

Taka screams and cries at the sight of Mondo’s execution, and breaks down into a million fractured pieces. It’s not good, it’s not funny, and the game nearly falls apart because of it. 

But there’s no eject button installed, no way to stop this killing game once it's started, not unless everyone’s ready to self-destruct in front of a live audience. So to her classmates’ dismay, the game continues, unbothered by their shared grief. 

Fortunately or unfortunately, Taka goes quiet.

He’s not the only one. 

***

She’d rifled through the photos taken, searching for one perfect to drop as a hint.

But what kind of hint was she willing to give? How much of the big picture should the little picture reveal? How much truth could her classmates handle? She wants to give them a taste of the truth, get their minds racing. She doesn’t want to blow them. 

So, sighing to herself, she’d shoved the photos aside. No, none of them would work. She’d have to get creative.

Old uniforms are dusted off, and green curtains are put up over bolted up windows.They laugh together, and they don’t need to fake it.

***

Makoto finds an impossible, inexplicable photo. It is quick to be stolen away though, before he can begin to process it and its implications. Alone in the empty room, he wonders if it’s real.

***

When Taka is chosen as a victim, it’s a relief. A swift mercy, a quick end to it. Thank god.

***

Bodies are moved around as the students are sent on a wild goose chase, courtesy of Celeste. 

The gambler betrays Hifumi with a hammer to the head, a plot twist some could have predicted, and one some _had_ predicted.

What could _not_ have been predicted is what happens next, as the rest of the students stumble upon his not quite dead yet body.

***

“I remember...everything.” he murmurs, voice cracking and quiet. And he isn’t lying.

Everything is clear to him now. 

The first meetings, the final meetings, the moments in between. A junkyard where it all began, hushed conversations in the cafeteria, in empty classrooms. Names and names and names, collected thoroughly. A blackboard with Taka’s neat handwriting on it, pages filled with sketches and scribbles, half planned ideas.

He remembers fake smiles, the stiff ones you give a teacher you don’t like, and he remembers real ones too. Laughter, loud, filled with delight and disbelief. The best years of their lives, finally living up to their name. 

He remembers big moments, a promise, shaking hands to seal the deal, the metallic smell that seemed to linger for days, even after thorough cleaning. And he remembers little ones too. Junko, with bobby pins held precariously in her mouth, measuring his proportions. Bets with Celeste over the dumbest things, ones she always ended up winning in the end.

He wonders if she’ll win this time as well.

He remembers everything, and he is no longer scared. He knows what’s coming, and he knows he has nothing to fear.

“Who killed you?” They ask, teary eyed, and he wishes he had the strength to laugh.

He knows what to say.

Celeste is the queen of liars, the one to always win a bet, and Hifumi is betting on her now. 

“Yasu...hiro,” he gets out. Then everything goes black.

***

Hiro is framed. Celeste does her best to keep her hands on all the strings, to manipulate them all to one conclusion. And yet her mask cracks and crumbles under the weight of her lies, of her classmates’ accusations, and the queen of liars is dethroned.

“Called it.” crows Junko, as the fire burns and spreads, and the truck smashes into the execution stand, destroying everything in a grand finale worthy of royalty.

***

_“I think I could do it,” Leon says, confidently._

_“Ha!” Byakuya sneers, looking up from his book. “You must be joking.” At his side, Makoto nudges him gently, a look of clear disapproval on his face. Byakuya huffs in frustration, but tries again. “Your anger is too great a handicap. I, on the other hand--”_

_“Am way too annoying!” Junko finishes for him, sticking her tongue out childishly. “No way are they putting up with you that long!”_

_Byakuya shoots her a glare, sniffing, before choosing to go back to his book. Or at least pretending to. At his other side, Kyoko smiles demurely. “I think I’d manage just fine.”_

_No one argues with her as nods echo around the cafeteria table. An unspoken ‘fair enough’._

_Hifumi adjusts his glasses. “I think Miss Celeste could do it. Scratch that, I know she could!”_

_At the other end of the table, the gambler in question grins at him, shark like. “I’ll take that bet.”_

***

Tensions continue to rise. 

Kyoko investigates hidden rooms, Hina lashes out, Hiro is scared out of his mind, Byakuya is cold and callous, and Makoto is desperately trying to keep everyone together. Syo ruins his efforts by avoiding the rest of them as much as possible, even Byakuya. 

Junko looks at the stack of photographs and frowns.

Sakura writes her final confession.

***

Makoto finds a second photo, just as impossible and inexplicable as the first.

The stack of photos stays untouched on Junko’s desk. _Not yet_ , she thinks, she says. _He’s not ready yet._

***

A locked room mystery is hard to solve. As Kyoko explains to a confused Makoto, there are four possibilities.

Unfortunately for her investigation, some options are written off sooner than they should be, and not all doors are as closed as they appear.  
***

A suicide note is faked, and another is stolen.

Hiro pleads guilty, Toko pleads guilty, Aoi pleads guilty, Syo pleads _let me out of here, I don’t like this game_.

None of them are listened to, as Kyoko and Makoto drag them towards the truth.

***

The laptop looks around, expression the very picture of innocence and confusion. It really does look like Chihiro. 

There is a beeping from the machine behind it, before it starts to smash and pummel, destroying the laptop with a fervent energy that almost makes Junko jealous.

_Almost,_ she thinks, she hums, as she twirls the green USB key in her hand. _Almost._

***

_Syo hates the smell of blood._

_Contrary to popular belief, just because some bleeding is necessary does not mean she enjoys it. It’s messy and gets everywhere, staining clothes and memories._

_She walks the bloodstained halls of her former school, and she feels sick to her stomach._

***

Junko stands over a half asleep, feverish Makoto, mask on, knife in hand, and wonders how hard it would be to kill him, really.

He blinks, once, twice, looks up at her with wide eyes, dazed and sweaty, sees the knife, the mask. He gasps weakly.

Perhaps recognition was too much to ask for. 

Then Kyoko bursts in, and Junko is too busy escaping to think about What Ifs. 

***

Byakuya stares out at the bloodstained classroom, at the turned over desks, the gouges in the wall, the chalk outlines for bodies that litter the floor, and wonders who was cold blooded enough to commit this massacre.

He wonders if this is the ‘tragedy’ that the now gone computer had mentioned so gravely. 

“ **HOPE** ” is scrawled on the chalkboard, in blood, and Byakuya finds it a little distasteful, even for him.

***

Syo is the one to find the body, the one to present it to the rest of them.

She is glad no one is there to see her then, to see her expression when she discovers it. 

Knowledge doesn’t make it any less horrifying, and her careless facade cracks at the sight of it.

***

Monokuma has been destroyed and dismantled, and the body explodes. 

They enter the data room, finally, and search it. Makoto rattles the locked Monokuma door, to no avail. The television is turned on, and he hears voices. 

Monokuma is quick to pop their bubble though, destroying any hope they might have built up, as he tells them to _Smile! You’re live!_

He kicks them out of the data room forcefully soon after, leaving them to their tampered with investigation.

Makoto lingers at the door, as they all head off back towards the garden. He hears laughter on the other side of the door, muffled, and he fantasizes about punting the bear into the sun.

***

The investigation continues. 

The clues pile up, bets are made, and Kyoko shows up at the elevator at the last possible second, ready to begin a sham of a trial.

***

In the end, It’s sweet, trusting Makoto up for execution. Junko knows he would rather die than hurt any of them, and she suppresses a pang of guilt. It won’t matter for long. 

The execution fails, because Makoto is oh so lucky. In the data room, Junko smiles.

***

Kyoko has the key, has Makoto too, having retrieved him from the trash chute. Junko’s just glad she didn’t investigate said trash chute’s contents further. 

She wonders how the detective would have reacted to the long rotted bodies, the half crushed rocket ship, in her current state. 

She has a feeling it would not have gone well.

***

Kyoko challenges her in front of an audience of millions, and Junko laughs in delight.

It’s all coming together so nicely, and she’s so _proud_. 

She sets them loose on the school, lets them wander to their heart’s content, eager to see what they’ll find.

Her eyes flicker over to the stack of photographs beside her, and without bothering to examine it, she removes the top photo. 

_It’s finally time._ She grins. _They’re ready now._

***

It is Syo who finds the photo in question. 

The luckiest option, some would say, or perhaps the worst. 

The photo is not given to her as a hint by Monokuma, no, it is _found_ , taped up in Toko’s locker. Syo knows Toko was not the one to put it there.

Syo also knows she is not the one smiling in the photo. She does not remember the day it was taken, and she is glad for it. 

The photo is a spread of black and white and red, a mostly deserted classroom filled to the brim with beaming faces. Syo hates it. Hates the photo itself, hates everything it represents. 

She is quick to glance behind her as footsteps sound in the distance, _Kyoko_ , and she stuffs the photo into her skirt pocket. She won’t let them find it. She _won’t._

***

The final trial begins with a bang, with a wide grin from behind the screen, as Junko inwardly celebrates prematurely. Finally, _finally_ , everything is coming to fruition. Everything is coming to an end.

Hiro and Hina slam photos onto their podiums, accuse the others of working together, of working against them, and Monokuma barely resists the urge to laugh out loud. Syo does not show her photo, but her eyes flicker over the ones shown, inspecting their contents. 

Class photos, of them in the pool together, running a race in their first year, of them all together. 

Makoto denies their accusations easily, and the trial moves on.

She watches as they discuss the missing light, the numbers that don’t add up, the clue that tells them that Junko is not as dead as she seems. Ah, but if only they’d thought that logic over a little longer, questioned the lights a little more. Because if Mondo is nothing more than a stick of melted butter, what body is being kept in his place in the morgue? How can there possibly be nine lights on, when there aren’t nine complete bodies left?

Still, she lets them continue.

She lets them examine the body’s wounds, compare them to the ones “Junko” had sustained. Watches as they put the pieces together but continue to miss the big picture. Of course, it's not their fault. They’re missing the needed photos and memories. 

So Junko continues to indulge them. 

She appears in a puff of smoke, smiling wide. She greets their shocked faces, makes eye contact with Syo and smiles even wider. They’re in the end game now.

***

“We figured you out!” Makoto cries out, determined. “Now let us go!” 

Junko laughs heartily. “Now Now, I did say you had to solve _all_ the school’s mysteries, right?” At the other side of the courtroom, Syo stiffens. “Sure, you found me out. But what about the others? What about the tragedy? If you want to beat _me_ , the ultimate despair, you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that!” 

Their faces are confused now, lost, until Byakuya brings up the bloodstained classroom. And then they’re discussing theories, possible natures of the infamous “Tragedy”.

“God, you guys are so _slow_!” Junko whines, dramatically splaying her head on her podium. 

“Why don’t I clear things up a little?”

And all around them, the TVs turn on, showing bloody pictures. And not ones from her private collection, oh no, she has no interest in showing the world those. No, it's completely empty classrooms she shows them, blood splattered and destroyed, with “ **HOPE** ” scrawled on the walls. 

“This is your so-called tragedy! The extermination of the ultimates! Impressive, isn’t it?”

But her classmates don’t seem to think so. Hina’s face is green, Hiro is trembling on the edge of a panic attack, and Makoto’s mouth is agape in horror.

For a moment, Junko wishes this wasn’t a live recording. But the show must go on.

***

“What more do you want from us?” Kyoko asks sharply. “You took our memories, our freedom, our _lives_. Haven't you done enough?”

“Well, I can always do a little more.” says Junko, grinning. “Do you have any more clues? Otherwise, your execution is waiting!” 

Makoto’s hands tremble on his podium as he lowers his head in defeat, teeth gritted. On the other side of the courtroom, Toko makes a noise of surprise. Oh, now _this_ is interesting.

“A-A photo?” The writer frowns, removing the photograph from where Syo has hastily stuffed it away. She unfolds it, smooths it out with her hand, and nearly drops it in shock when she processes its contents. 

Syo had crumpled it up, had held it with sweaty fingers, but despite the creases and sweat stains, the photo was still legible. Still clear enough to see the sixteen smiling faces, the very picture of youth.

Except this picture of youth is also a picture of carnage. 

For the room around those oh so familiar smiling faces is destroyed, background filled with bloodstains, with fallen desks and bodies littering the floor. The classmates, _her_ classmates, seem oblivious to it though, oblivious even to the blood that stains their own black and white outfits.

“W-What is t-this?” Toko manages to breathe out.

It is an impossible photo, the most impossible of them all. 

Junko smiles indulgently at her. “A class photo.” she says simply, as if it should be obvious. “Our graduation photo.”

Beside her, Toko’s classmates are beginning to lean over to try and catch a glimpse of the photo themselves. Instinctively, Toko holds it close to her chest, hiding it from sight. “T-this isn’t a c-clue.” she spits. “It’s a _lie_.” 

Junko’s smile drops at that, and for a second, Toko can almost swear she looks _hurt_.

But then the too wide grin is back, and she’s holding out a gavel, (Where did she even get that?) laughing. “Well then, if you insist. Unfortunately for you guys, it’s the final act! It’s been fun!”

“ _Wait--_ ” Cries Makoto, voice high and desperate, as his classmates scream and plead, but Junko is unyielding, and the gavel is slammed down on the big red button. 

“IT’S _PUNISHMENT_ TIME!!”

***

_“Are you nervous?” Mukuro asks her, the day before the killing game is planned to start. She’s frowning in that concerned way of hers, the one that makes her nose scrunch up._

_“Nah! Of course not!” Junko denies quickly, “I'm never nervous!”_

_Mukuro looks at her patiently, not buying it for a second. She reaches her hand out, and squeezes Junko’s. “You know, it’s okay to be nervous. You’re only human.”_

_Junko considers protesting again, considers denying even that. Instead, she just sighs. “I know. I just--” she bites her nail, brow furrowed. “I want it to go well. I don’t want to lose any of them.”_

_“You won’t.” Mukuro promises, voice calm and certain._

_“Everything is going to be fine.”_

***

The courtroom begins to transform, as the lights go out, and the room goes dark. The podiums collapse and sink into the floor out of sight as a brick wall rises up to take their place. Her classmates’ cries are muffled, and when the lights come back on, six bodies have been tied to six posts in front of the wall, bags on their heads. Their mouths are most likely gagged underneath, since the screaming has stopped. Or perhaps they have simply gone quiet out of terror.

On the other side of the room, a gatling gun emerges from the ceiling, as Junko steps backwards, making herself comfortable on Monokuma’s throne seconds before it begins to rise. 

Overhead, a sign pops up: “ **Class Shoot** ” 

Junko, perched up high on her throne, waves a black and white flag high in the air and grins victoriously, eyes bright. “ _FIRE_!” she yells. 

The gun goes off, firing off bullets at a rapid fire rate, and quickly, the bodies and the wall behind them are riddled with holes, blood spraying everywhere, and Junko cheers.

“That’s the end of our first act, everyone!” She proclaims proudly, turning to the closest camera. “Feel free to catch the rest in person, in the coming days!” And finally, finally, at an unspoken command on her part, the cameras are turned off. 

Junko allows herself to slump back in her chair, to sigh a big sigh just to herself. She did it. The hard part is over.

Now it's time for the part everyones been waiting for. The standing ovation.

***

Makoto is terrified, and so, so confused.

Just when he thought he knew what was going on, when he was sure he was about to be executed without mercy, the lights had gone out, and he’d been dragged out of the courtroom in the chaos, separated from the other survivors, and placed in a dark room, _alone_. One he doesn’t recognize. 

He can hear gunshots, somewhere not too far away, and he trembles in the darkness. Then, suddenly, a door opens, and lights flood the room. He looks up, eyes wide and terrified, to see Junko Enoshima, the real one. 

And she is _beaming_.

Not the smile he’d seen at the final trial, the bloodthirsty grin filled with manic glee. No, she looks _happy_.

“Makoto,” she says, smiling so, so wide. “You _did_ it! WE did it! It’s over now!” 

“ _What?_ ” he whispers, back to the wall.

She approaches him slowly, as if he’s some sort of startled animal, talking all the while. “You know, no matter how many times I do this part, it always scares me. Like, what if it doesn’t work this time? I don’t want to lose you, Makoto. I don’t want to lose _any_ of you. I _can’t._ ”

And ignoring his obvious fear and utter bafflement, she kneels down in front of him, so that their faces are level with each other, staring at him with the most genuine expression he’s ever seen her make.

“I picked yours myself, you know. I thought it was appropriate. After all,” and she smiles softly. “If I’m the ultimate despair, then you’re the _ultimate hope_ , Makoto.”

And slowly, gently, she takes his trembling hands in her own. “Please, Makoto, I need you back.” 

And for a moment, he is scared out of his mind. Then, suddenly, he _remembers._  
***

_Plans made together, bright smiles. A class united at last by a shared goal, a shared friendship._

_They’re gonna change the world._

_“But first,” Mukuro reminds them, “We need to beat the game.”_

***

Makoto blinks his tears away, and looks Junko right in the eyes. Her expression is filled with uncharacteristic concern, _worry_ , for _him_.

So quickly, he pulls her into a tight hug. “We did it!” he laughs, “It worked!”

Junko inhales sharply, and for a moment, she is unmoving, frozen with surprise. Then she recovers, and hugs him back, hands grasping the back of his jacket. “Yeah.” she murmurs, hoarsely. “It did.” 

“And the others?” he asks, voice muffled by her hair, despite already knowing the answer. Sometimes it’s nice to hear a positive confirmation, right from the source.

“They're waiting for us,” she tells him, smile audible.

***

It doesn’t take him long to change, he’s always been one for simplicity, after all. Even as one of the Hopes, he’s still the same old Makoto at heart.

He removes his hoodie, slips on a plain white T-Shirt, clips the Monokuma pin to the front of his jacket with a fond smile.

He looks up at Junko, who is watching him, expression excited and impatient. 

“I’m ready,” he says, and it’s true.

***

Just as she promised, the rest of them are waiting at the sealed entrance of the school, the final closed door. 

Class 78 is reunited at last, as Sayaka cries out in delight, and Chihiro just cries, as Celeste smiles at their arrival, as Leon and Mondo whoop and holler, as Hifumi pumps his fist, as Taka beams dazingly, as Sakura looks at them approvingly, pride clear in her eyes, and as Mukuro makes eye contact with him and winks. 

They’re all here again, _together_.

Their outfits haven’t been worn in a few days, but they fit just as perfectly as the day they had them tailored, black and white outfits, splashed with colors from all over the rainbow. 

Makoto can’t resist running to them, and they can’t resist pulling him and Junko into one big hug of celebration.

Because it _worked_.

And as they stand in a line, holding hands, it is Junko who holds the button out. It is Junko who looks at them all standing beside her, her classmates, her friends, her fellow masterminds, and beams.

“You guys ready to graduate?” 

And to a chorus of cheers and laughs, she presses the button, and the door creaks open, shining light down on its final graduates, the Hopes of a brand new world.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact this au started cause I was playing the final trial, saw Hiro and Hina accuse everyone else of working together and thought,,,,huh thatd be a cool au.  
> Just,,,class masterminds!!!!  
> Also thank you theo for yelling about this au with me and helping me share it with the world. Dedicating these evil kids to you!!!


End file.
